#SheCallsMeGrumpy #SheKnowsItWell #EverythingIsEverything

POLTERGEIST FOR ALL, MACH 2020

by

Richard Joseph Stephan · Wednesday, January 22, 2020

-------------------   JAZZ LIKE THIS GROWS ON TREES  -------------------

It is exactly what it is and the only way it always will be, nobody above you anywhere in sight

I’m the one who watches over your being’s liberty and ability to facilitate your will’s might

Functions of the calculus require the incomprehensible substitutions for abstract concepts

Nothing that can ever be repeated in an experiment to verify deduced theorems’ of the inept.

It’s not that you’re absolutely devoid of the ability to think rationally, it’s just that you’re, aho

What that means is that you’re conscious yet in synchronistic fluctuation with the scale of Do

Songs sung, music played, voice, wind, twang or pound things themselves, form of the shape

Bones’ cellular configuration the piece de resistance of the evolutionary product of God vape.

Smoke on the water, above or below the water, in space above and below the rocky birth zone

Where all of our mothers lived, will die and have died for centuries, for the sake of a maroon

Where I am, here on this seat in this place in space without a ship, grounded in white sands

Out in the desert near the oasis right there in the middle of nowhere, holy Geist turned Man.

Nothing to do in purposeless existences, for the matter is starstuff on the way to be overdone

Beyond you & I, where only archangels go, past an Event Horizon’s sacred Singularity’s dome

No hurry from conception to dissolution of form and substance, on the backstretch to home

Interruption of a ghostly recollection, a memory that hadn’t happened yet, just havin’ fun.

Godfathers know their offspring and from where they’ve come, a holy IBM computer patch

Either it’s a metaphysical anomaly, this miracle of being alive in a bone, stone twilight zone

It appears immortality is possible but improbable for an entropic left over, a black hole sun

Godmothers and godfathers’ gods passed a dirty word, mouth to mouth, the work of Scratch.

Pole to pole around the entire seven seas and continents, the struggle moves on to the finale

Where it all began it will end or it won’t, at least not exactly but it will end for certain, I see

Beyond the obvious lighted objects and the relationship with the matrix we share, young me

Now old me, little old me, recollecting POTUS from Maine to Tennessee, holy ghost! T2020.

by

r j j stephan, i

c. Wednesday, January 22nd, 2020 A.D. @ 4:44 PM PST

{ Crushed this out today while listenin’ to Bill Evans #LiveInSwitzerland1975 on youTube link @ https://youtu.be/OWqnOlDIFYM }

FINIS

W.W.A.R.D.?

#PasteOnThePasties #FallinInLoveWithMeAndYou #NewYork2California #OneWayTrip

CRACKIN’ UP, PINK’S THE YOKE? *

by

Richard Joseph Stephan · Wednesday, January 22, 2020

------------   #WheresTheBrooklynSideOfChicago ------------

Terrible twos have little to do with the “Ready-To-Freeze” seventies, brave men do fear it all

Where the rubber met the road and the fission of the atoms split the wishbone in two or tree

That’s terminology for “Three” the way my pops used to say it, high schooler vet, be the ball

He got the music into me when I was a lad of seven, my grandpa made my dad save it, Free!

He said everything’d be OK in the end, I passed it on with old, #BlindFaith committed to Zen

To be or not to be, every minute of every day, ‘cause we only get back what we give, a godsend

The Time in Space is a gift from the gods or the Void or just a dream inside your teeny noggin

Miracle that the causes and effects are still doing what they do, making mortal life like fishin’.

Wake up, smell the coffee, if there’s any left, make a whole pot if it’s all gone, I need a miracle

It’s the Cause I conceive and implement from origin to the destination, it cannot be a debacle

This all has a reason to be here, this life, family, friends, orphans, inmates, enemies in a farce

Crying, whining and complaining about LIFE, reason to live while it’s kickin’ your punk arse.

Pitter and patter the sound at the end of the day sounds like winding the clock down to zero

Nothing left when the Time is up, nothing left after a final tick and tock of the cuckoo O’clock

Poking fun at the priests and pastors and preachers who are much more holy than fear I blow

Amorphous yet amorous to Ones who appear alike and deadly to be the Many I’ll never know.

Thinking monkeys, apes, primates climbing up trees, hiding in caves, swimmin’ with the fish

In the ocean, lakes and rivers that stream in full cinemascope, in the style of Salvidor Dali-sh

Mighty muscles to lift planets into variable vibration levels of blown atoms, black eggs’ gods

Allstars jacked and movin’ around, it is all there is to each one, rhythmic harmony of Ga, ova.

by

r j j stephan, i *Got A Reason To Live! You?

c. Mercredi, Janvier 22nd, 2020 Anno Domini @ 3:33 AM PST

{ Drafted while listenin’ to #FirstCuts from #MaybeYouBeenBrainwashedToo by #TheNewRadicals 1,2,3,4... on youTube link @ https://youtu.be/puObTL3awB0 }

FINIS

W.W.A.R.D.?

#BaFongoo #ImmediateSuspension #YoureOutOfHere #BeTheBlues #EventHorizon @VanAllynBelt

54 GAMES, WON ALL, LOST NONE

by

Richard Joseph Stephan · Tuesday, January 21, 2020

----------------- #PerfectImperfection ------------------

I have picked every winner in every @Superbowl from 1966 to 2019, won’t waste 2020 on me

Not because I want to lose, it’s just because I am betting my ace high full house on it, too high

If I lose, I start paying a mortgage again, if I win, I move to Hawaii, buy a condo on a blue sea

Of course you know that I’m all too human, with a dream that I had all in my own mind’s eye.

Just a moment while I scramble the matter and energy within the shape of the nothing I am

It won’t take very long, energy being a matter of Time in Space, random collisions, a flim flam

Imaginary functions of living for any reason other than to consume & convert x’s & o’s to fun

For no other reason than just because, that’s all of it, no revelation of a prize for being a One.

Amazing PhD’s putting the fear of Zeus back into the empty void of grateful deadhead grads

Masters of a gift to analyze concepts and induce or deduce rational conclusions, viable triads

On being a piece of the whole thing, it appears that’s all there is, it’s all you’ll get in eternity

Nothing personal between you and I and the darkness outside Earth, we’re God, we’re pretty!

Now, we’re goin’ way back to the 1960’s when I was in a high school I hated to be in, flunked

Both junior and senior year spent in summer school brushing up on American and English lit

Amazing that I got A’s in summer schools yet F’s in the regular school year of priestly revere

I graduated summa cum laude and the Nam war took me away, KIA on the battlefield here.

Sneeze and cough your way out of papa’s brand new bag, paper or plastic, wasted eye candy

Old songs from the teeny boppers, the beatniks and hippies and their minions, sung so dandy

Meaning and purpose delayed until the foresight becomes literally the hindsight’s savior king

Nobody knows on Earth can repeat the Super Bowl LIV win, #GameFace, almost a Will thing.

by

r j j stephan, i

c. Tuesday, January 21st, 2020 A.D. @ 4:44 PM PST

{ Drafted while listenin’ to #SuperIntelligence on a loop on youTube link @ https://youtu.be/VL9bpCjazT4 & afterward listenin’ to #CosmicEnergy: Cold Sparks to Black Holes link @ https://youtu.be/0lTbQ4nPFjg }

FINIS

W.W.A.R.D.?